An Impromptu Diversion
by iseefireandrain
Summary: Liz and Red, fugitives still eluding capture, are eating dinner when a cop unexpectedly waltzes in. In order to seem as though they are mere harmless married civilians, Liz has to do something rash and unexpected to Red. Lizzington.


**I own nothing to do with the Blacklist. Just a big, big fan.**

 **Hope you enjoy this little one-shot. It's been a long time since I've posted, so I apologize.**

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"I don't know what's wrong with me," Liz says despairingly, shaking her head at Red from where he sits beside her at the table. "First, the Attorney General of the United States, and _now_... now, an undercover cop."

Red sighs heavily as he deflects her gaze, taking hold of the glass of red wine in front of him to take in a long and indulgent sip.

They had found a quiet and almost deserted diner to make a quick stop into with the intentions of getting something for dinner, yet Liz could hardly stomach any of the food that was laid out in front of her. She feels hungry- starving in fact. Yet she knows eating right now is next to impossible. She can't seem to get over what she had done, earlier in the day.

That cop she had shot. _When did she become this... thing? This trigger-happy person?_

While it eased her conscience a little, knowing that they had delivered him straight to the hospital to get the best medical assistance available, she still feels downright disgusted with herself.

Every time she so much as even glances down at her hands, she sees the red stains of the man's blood still on them. She pulls her hands under the table, rubbing her palms back and forth on her trousers, suppressing another impulse to dart back into the bathroom to give her hands another thorough wash.

She watches Reddington out of the corner of her eyes as he sits there, relaxed as anything, chowing down on the dinner he has ordered as if nothing has even happened, as though she hadn't just shot a man coldblooded. She has no idea how he does it; Go on, despite all the blood and filth on his hands. He thinks she's a good person despite it all. But how can she possibly be considered a good person after all of that?

"How can you live with yourself, knowing what you've done?" she asks out loud to him, though she isn't even sure she is actually searching for an answer. He shifts slightly in the chair, turning his penetrating gaze on her. How he does, its a sheer mystery to her. "All the... the blood on your hands? _Everything_?"

Honestly, everything has happened so quickly in the past few days, its been impossible for her to process it all. Being on the run, evading capture from the F.B.I, her old team, Ressler constantly on their trail... Before it even has had time to properly register, Liz has found herself getting deeper and deeper down the rabbit's hole.

She feels his hand come underneath the table, his warm and dry fingers brushing against her kneecap through the material of her jeans comfortingly, yet she can't say she truly feels it. It doesn't truly register in; She feels completely detached, away from it all.

"It becomes easier," he says after a moment of pensive thought. He jerks his chin towards her plate of untouched food. "With some food in your system, you'll feel better." She stares into his eyes doubtfully for a long moment, watching him work his jaw before he looks away again.

But Liz isn't sure she will. Things will never be the same again. _She_ will never be the same again.

The door jingles as someone new enters the small diner. A cop, just her luck. His gun is strapped to a holster around his waist, but it doesn't appear as though he has recognized them as the fugitives everyone under the sun is now searching for.

 _Oh, the irony._

Her muscles tense and Liz feels she wants to do nothing more than to run and hide, in that instance, to flee like her and Red have been doing constantly for the past week or so. Old habits die hard, she guesses. The cop's eyes meet her gaze before he turns away, leaning an elbow against the counter casually. She hears him talking in a low voice to the man behind the counter, but she doesn't hear anything of concern.

Her eyes flit to Red in worry. She can tell he has clocked onto the fact that a cop has entered the diner, yet he is carefully composed, giving nothing away- a man of experience in hiding his true emotions. Already, she sees his arm move beneath the table and as her eyes drop, she sees the gun he is carefully concealing in his lap, fingers gripping it so tight his knuckles are straining white.

"Carry on and try to eat your dinner," Red says to her in a low voice, directing her along. "Just go on as you are and try to remain calm. Let's not draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves for now." He's been doing this for years, so its only natural he knows what to do in this situation. "Don't make any move to go into action unless he gives us valid reason to." He says it like its so easy and it probably is to him.

As for Liz, she's beginning to find it increasingly hard to keep her cool.

Her heart feels as though it is pounding a mile a minute in sheer dread and her mouth has gone dry. This is so what she doesn't need; Another casualty today, another slather of blood on her hands. Trying to look inconspicuous, she lets her gaze fall back on the cop again. He seems busy chattering away with the man behind the counter. Laughing, in fact. Not as though he has taken any special notice of the two of them sitting there, at a table, chowing down on some dinner.

She stiffens when Red leans closer, his mouth coming near her ear. Her eyes haven't left the cop, so it startles her and leaves her feeling off her guard.

"Make it so it appears you are going to the bathroom, then take a turn to your right through the back entrance," Red says to her, his baritone voice rumbling near her ear. "There, you'll find the car. Wait in it and I will be right behind you, Lizzie."

She tries to gauge the situation, scrutinizing the cop as he gestures with both hands to the man behind the counter. Somehow she feels Red is overreacting.

"He doesn't seem as though he's noticed who we are, Red," she gets out under her breath, being careful not to move her lips too much. Her heart feels it has sunk down to her navel when the cop unexpectedly looks in their direction again. "For all he knows, we could just be two innocent married civilians sitting here eating dinner."

The cop's eyes still on them, Liz realizes she has to do something dramatic then. She's so tired, so tired of running. For once, she wishes they could just spend one damn hour at the very least stationary and relaxing in a diner eating dinner- even if Reddington is the only one capable of doing the eating.

 _It's now or never,_ she tells herself, bracing herself for it, to do the last thing she thought she would ever be doing, especially to Red. Heavily conscious of the cop still sussing them out, she faces Red, locking her gaze onto his for a moment. Her eyes move from his mouth to his eyes through his tinted glasses, her mouth feeling filled with cotton, her tongue numb.

She has never felt more nervous and unsure of herself, than she does now in this precise moment. She has no idea on earth how he will react to it, or how he will respond, but it's the only quickest solution she can think of right now; One that automatically both saves them from having to run on their weary feet to flee and also, all the better, to spare the cops life and anymore blood from being spilled in the process.

"Now, Lizzie. Your time is-"

Red's insistent words are cut off when Liz pulls her face closer, close enough that her lips meet his. She knows she has shocked him, Raymond Reddington of all people, when his lips are still beneath hers, a hoarse noise coming from the back of his throat.

It is difficult to tell whether Red gets why she is doing this, that she is trying to convince the cop that _that_ is exactly what they are- just one of your innocent, everyday married citizens sharing a smooch together while they have dinner- but as his shock over her behavior dissolves, he angles his head to the side, his free hand that isn't holding the gun in his lap beneath the table coming up to hold a fistful of her blonde hair at the back of her head, his fingers tangling in.

Liz feels she is the shocked one this time when it occurs to her what Red is actually doing by it all, that he's actually holding her still, keeping her head where it is so that they can kiss.

Barely a minute later, Liz starts to feel affected in a way she never expected. She brings a hand up to cup the side of his face, leaning in closer herself. All coherent thought seems to leave her, and this hot, heavy feeling starts developing in her stomach. She gets into the kiss, perhaps just as much as he does, moving her lips against Red's and meeting him there and giving it back for all its worth, and she starts to feel she enjoys it, horrifyingly enough.

 _She is relishing making out with Reddington, regardless of it all being under pretense so the cop doesn't suspect them!_

When Red's mouth leaves hers, starting to create a trail with it towards her ear, Liz becomes aware that she feels dizzy. Her breathing is far too loud and ragged- the diner looks as though its tilting on a funny angle- and as Red finally reaches just below her ear, ending his path of open-mouthed, hot kisses, she feels as though she can hardly think straight, when he says in a raspy tone, "We're clear now, Lizzie."

It happens all too unfairly quickly when Red abruptly leans back away from her in his seat. When he picks up a napkin from the dispenser on the table, folding it in half and using it as a make-shift fan to get a cool breeze happening over his face, Liz can't help but feel relieved that evidently she hadn't been the only one surprisingly affected by the kiss.

When Liz turns away from him with difficulty to see what is happening with the cop again, she realizes he's gone.

The cop has already left, somewhere during their quick and impulsive make-out session to throw him off their trail.

 _Guess they were really convincing as an ordinary married couple, after all..._


End file.
